


Attention

by didipickles



Series: Domestic Disputes [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Distracted David, M/M, Needy Patrick, Rimming, Smut, Talking, asking for things, light d/s undertones if you squint, until he is Very Much not distracted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 03:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles
Summary: Most of the time, Patrick adored David’s single mindedness when it came to his reading time, the way nothing could interfere. Except for now, when he wanted David to read his mind and close his book and pay attention to him.*Patrick's had a long day and is frustrated that David isn't paying attention to him. David makes Patrick practice asking for what he wants.





	Attention

**Author's Note:**

> prompt by [this-is-not-nothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_not_nothing)

The sheer volume of books David consumed on a regular basis had always astounded Patrick. He hated himself for thinking it, but on meeting someone like David Rose, a person’s first thought isn’t likely to be “now there’s a guy who spends a lot of his time reading.” But Patrick loved it, loved the way David would be sucked deep into the world on the page, loved listening to him ramble on about how one character was “so clearly a metaphor for the toll of capitalistic standards on the artistic heart,” loved the way David’s deep intelligence came to light when he explained intricate plot points to Patrick.

Tonight, however, Patrick restlessly moved around the apartment, growing more and more irritated that David would not look up from his book. Most of the time, he adored David’s single mindedness when it came to his reading time, the way nothing could interfere. Except for now, when he wanted David to read his mind and close his book and pay attention to him. Patrick had slammed a cabinet door shut (“see, David, I’m closing it for you”) to which David had merely nodded. He’d sat down on the couch next to David and scratched the back of his head while whispering in his ear, and David had lifted his shoulder and shimmied Patrick off with a light “later, honey.” He’d even picked up his guitar and strummed out some of the acoustic Whitney Houston covers he’d been working on, and David hadn’t budged. 

The problem wasn’t David, and that made Patrick feel worse. Unlike David, who said exactly what he was thinking regardless of the situation and social expectation for tact, Patrick had spent his life learning how to please. When Rachel would try to address problems in the relationship, Patrick would quickly become frustrated at not knowing how to express the root of his unease, and so he’d stopped trying. Instead, he'd let things fester until Rachel called him out for being passive-aggressive, and then he or she or both would blow up and break it off. Weeks or months would pass, they'd get back together, lather, rinse, repeat. 

As a child, his parents only ever argued behind closed doors, and so Patrick supposed he’d never really learned how. When he’d started dating David, he’d avoided talking about hard things like Rachel at all, trying to keep everything smooth and easy. _ Lock it up. _ That's what he'd always done; lock up whatever the problem was, don't engage, don't rock the boat. The funny thing about it, he thought, was that he’d told David to learn to trust people, when he himself spent his whole life not trusting himself enough to push back, to ask for what he needed. Things had been better with David lately; he’d been learning. But now, here, Patrick was floundering. If he were David, he’d come right out and say it: “I had a bad day, can you please pay attention to me to help me feel better?” 

He wasn’t David. 

After gingerly putting his guitar back in its case, Patrick wandered over to stand behind the sofa, leaning down to catch a glimpse of what had David so enraptured. Fleetingly, Patrick thought about the early days of their relationship, how he never had to ask for David's attention because he always had it. He wouldn't trade what they'd grown into, the comfortable companionship that didn't require constant reassurances, but damn if he didn't sometimes miss being the constant centerpoint of David's focus, the way it illuminated him from the inside to have captivated the most fascinating person he'd ever met. That initial spark had settled into a constant deep warmth, and he tried to remember that as he took a breath and started rubbing David's shoulders. 

"How's the book coming?"

"Mm," David grunted, relaxing just a tiny bit into Patrick's hands. _ There we go. _

"I don't think you've looked up in over an hour," Patrick said, voice quiet. 

"High praise for this book."

Patrick took another breath and leaned down, kissing a spot behind David's left ear. It might be playing dirty, but these were desperate times. _ Trying times, _he heard David's voice say from what felt like a hundred years ago.

"Patrick, I'm _ reading," _David whined, but didn't shift away from Patrick's lips. Smirking, Patrick kissed the spot again, letting his tongue flick out. When David sighed and squirmed, Patrick licked up the shell of his ear. "Reading," David repeated, voice a bit softer.

"You've been reading all night, David." Patrick winced, hearing the irritation in his own voice. He'd meant to make it into a game, but the frustration was bleeding out into his words.

After a few seconds of silence, David turned and looked over his shoulder at Patrick. "What are you not saying?" Patrick's stomach dropped. Of course. It thrilled Patrick at first when he realized how well David had learned to read him, but it also meant he could be caught out.

"Nothing, I didn't - "

"Patrick," David said, firmly cutting him off. He closed his book and stood to face Patrick, the sofa between them. "What is it?"

A warm flush crept over Patrick's cheeks; he could practically feel his face turning pink and giving him away. "It's just, ah. I didn't have the best day while you were out of the store. And, um," Patrick swallowed. "I wanted to spend time with you."

David looked steadily back at him, and Patrick thought he saw a crease momentarily appear in the space between his eyebrows. The gaze made Patrick want to squirm. He shouldn't have made it into a game, he should have just talked to David, why couldn't he just _ say it? _

"Come here, please." David's voice was cool and silken as he held out a hand and guided Patrick around the back of the couch, then gently pushed him to sit. With David towering above him, Patrick's cheeks got hotter and he stared at his knees, waiting. 

After a few more moments, David reached down to tilt Patrick's head up, fingers lightly brushing under his chin. "Patrick." Soft, golden, reverent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

The childish response was on the tip of Patrick's tongue. _ Because I wanted you to notice. _ Instead, he shrugged and looked down again, hands rubbing methodically over his thighs. "You were reading."

"Mm, and you were trying to distract me." 

"I wasn't - "

David put two fingers on Patrick's lips, effectively silencing him. "You have my attention now," he murmured, warmth coating each syllable. A ripple of pleasure moved through Patrick at the sound. As David sat down, Patrick watched his face get deep and contemplative. "I'm sorry you had a bad day. But," David ran a hand down Patrick's back, "you can't expect me to know what you want if you don't tell me."

The flush crept further over Patrick's cheeks as he dropped David's gaze. He was certain his ears were red by now. "I know," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"We're just going to have to work on it, hm?" David sounded almost playful, and Patrick looked up quickly in surprise. A half smile played on David's lips. "So, Patrick. Tell me. What do you want?"

Strangely and unhelpfully, Patrick's mind went completely blank as he stared into David's dark eyes. He'd spent the better part of an hour trying to get David to give him the same level of concentration he'd been giving his book, and now that he had it, nothing. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he shook his head, eyes wide.

"You said you had a bad day. Do you want to talk about it? Did something happen?" David prodded gently, his hand now squeezing and scratching the nape of Patrick's neck. 

"No, I mean. Nothing in particular, I was busy and didn't have time for a break. And then this group of biker ladies came in and you would have been so much better with them, and I tried to upsell a young couple on foot care products and they ended up not buying anything, and…" With David's steady hand on his skin, Patrick found himself pouring out his frustrations from the day, barely stopping for breath as he recounted the now seemingly small events. All the while, David didn't take his eyes away from Patrick's face. By the time he finished his rant, Patrick was panting. 

"That sounds like a lot, and I'm sorry it was stressful," David finally said. "Do you feel better?"

Patrick paused to think about it. He certainly felt less weighed down. Having David's undivided focus simultaneously calmed and electrified him. "Yeah, I guess I do." Sheepishly, Patrick ducked his head and picked at a spot on his leg. David had been right, of course. Patrick needed to learn how to ask for things, how to get past the sense of exposure that came from asking for what he wanted. Almost always, he felt exhilarated after he did it, like the high he felt after asking David to dinner on his birthday. "Sorry I didn't just say something."

"Hey, c'mere," David said, standing and pulling Patrick up with him until he was wrapped up tightly in David's embrace. A wave of memory crashed over him as he thought of the first time he'd felt David's arms around him. He remembered being struck by how firmly David had held him in the middle of their store on the night of the opening. He'd expected David's touch to be like his voice: teasing, light, airy. Instead, Patrick had been met by the strong force that lived under David's soft sweaters, and he'd never forgotten the feeling. "We'll keep working on it."

Patrick nodded against David's shoulder. He'd be better. He swore it to himself. When he felt steady enough, Patrick pulled back and gave David a shy smile. "You can go back to your book now, I'm fine. Sorry for interrupting."

He was met with David's slightly narrowed eyes, and then David shook his head. "No, no I don't think so." Patrick's breathing stuttered. 

"...no?" Patrick asked, instinctively pulling back a bit. David didn't let him budge.

"No," David repeated. "You asked for my attention, and I'm going to give it to you." His voice had gone back to that cool silky tone that sent shivers over Patrick's skin. "I think we're going to work on you asking for things. Right now." 

Before Patrick could say anything, David pushed him back onto the couch, and then looked down at him, head tilted. 

"Patrick, what do you want?"

Again, Patrick's mind went blank. The scorching blaze of David's focused consideration seemed to melt away any coherent thoughts, and Patrick just stared back, shaking his head. "I...I don't know…"

David crouched down so he was level with Patrick. "I'm going to stay here until you ask me for something. And Patrick?" The corner of David's mouth lifted. "This isn't exactly comfortable."

The brief moment of levity cleared Patrick's mind a little, and he smiled just a fraction. "Will you sit on the couch with me?"

"Good, that's good." David sat down next to Patrick, gaze still fixed on him. "What do you want now?"

Was Patrick going to have to dictate each of David's moves? It felt strangely intimate and familiar, resembling the times Patrick had taken on a dom role in bed, but different too. He knew that although he was telling David what to do, David was very much in charge. Just that knowledge clicking into place made everything a little easier.

"I want you to kiss me." 

That pulled a full smile from David. "I can do that." Patrick watched as David took his time about it, running his fingertips up Patrick's sleeve to his shoulder, then gliding them back down. When he ran them up a second time, David curled his hand behind Patrick's neck, pulling him closer. David's eyes were flicking down to Patrick's lips and then back up to his eyes, and Patrick thought for the millionth time how he'd never understood feeling sexy before he'd met David. When their lips were touching, Patrick tried to kiss but David kept pulling away just enough. "Ask me."

Patrick groaned, squeezing his eyes closed. Why was this so difficult? He could easily ask a customer to add something to their order, or ask a vendor for a discount, or ask for grants for a fledgling business. But asking David for something? Asking specifically for _ himself? _

"I will wait," David breathed, lips touching Patrick's but not enough, not what he needed. 

"Please kiss me, David." His voice came out low and broken, and then David was crowding into him, lips warm and insistent as he gave, gave, gave, took, took, took.

A strangled moan left Patrick as his body reacted ahead of his brain, and he realized that he already had his hands fisted in David's sweater. David hummed against his lips, pushing closer, and then Patrick was on his back on the couch, David hot and close and anchoring him. For a few long minutes, Patrick let himself get lost in David's lips and teeth and tongue, and then reached down to pull at the hem of David's sweater, only to be batted away.

"Words. Tell me what you want," David growled into his throat. 

"More," Patrick panted.

"More what? C'mon, you can do it."

_ You can do it. _Patrick's insides warmed, and he took a steadying breath while focusing on the firm weight of David on top of him. "Can we take our clothes off?"

"So good, baby," David murmured at his ear, then stood. The sudden loss of David overwhelming his senses made Patrick whine. At the sound, David reached down and pulled Patrick into a sitting position, then knelt down in front of him and started on his buttons. After he opened three, David glanced up. "What do you want?"

"Please, more, David." They were the same three words Patrick had moaned over and over the first time David took Patrick in his mouth, and the first time Patrick had felt David's fingers inside him, and the first time David had sunk onto Patrick's cock. They were three of the easiest words Patrick could say, but not enough. Not now.

"Please. More. What." David punctuated each word with a fingernail on Patrick's collarbone. 

"Please undress me," Patrick said in a tiny voice. He knew that David was keenly aware of what he wanted, but being forced to say it..it was embarrassing and hot and so, so good.

With a pleased little growl, David opened the rest of the buttons and then pushed his hands up Patrick's chest to his shoulders, his fingers between the fabric and Patrick's burning skin. "You're doing so well." David pushed up on his knees to bite Patrick's pec, right next to his nipple. "What now?"

Patrick didn't realize until that moment that his hands were tightly wound in David's hair, as though if he let go he'd fly away. "Um, I want. You, too."

A gentle tsk accompanied David's glance up. "Specifics, love."

"Your clothes, I want them off. And um, can we go to the bed?"

"Stand up, and I'll let you take my clothes off for me." David was already back on his feet, watching Patrick expectantly. Having something to do snapped Patrick into motion, and he quickly stood as well, shrugging off his own shirt. Removing David's clothes grounded him a bit, each individual piece something to focus on in order to calm and quiet his swirling thoughts. David's clothes were off and folded neatly in record time, and then Patrick was gently being led backwards. When his legs hit the bed, he realized he still had his pants on. 

"Um. David," he said a bit helplessly, gesturing. "Can you...will you please take my pants off?"

"Of course, Patrick. Thank you for asking," David purred, and then dropped to his knees again. Everything tilted sideways as Patrick processed the image, and he blinked slowly, counting each inhale and exhale. "Look at you," David cooed as he tugged Patrick's pants and underwear down. His cock was already hard, and a bead of precome glistened on the head. Normally, David wouldn't waste a moment in leaning down to lick it, but now he just looked up, waiting. Watching. Daring Patrick to speak.

"Please," Patrick whispered. "Please taste me."

David's eyes sparkled as he smirked up, an eyebrow raising. "Very good." Immediately David had the head of Patrick's cock in his mouth, and Patrick closed his eyes. 

"David...thank you, thank you."

With a wet pop David pulled off, licking his lips greedily as he pulled the clothes the rest of the way off Patrick's legs. "You're being so polite, doing so well. What do you want now?"

Patrick cocked his head. So many things, he wanted _ so much, _all the time, but he had to ask. "I want to feel you," he said simply.

"Mm, you will. But you need to talk me through it. What do you want exactly? You're going to be good and tell me, aren't you?" David nuzzled Patrick's thigh as he spoke, staring up at Patrick and pointedly avoiding his heavy and bobbing cock.

For a moment Patrick had to close his eyes again. Slowly, he reminded himself that this wasn't too unlike any other time in bed, when Patrick would specify what he wanted. Except he knew it _ was _ different, he _ felt _ different, hyper-aware of his own desires as David made him catalogue them aloud. Patrick's cock twitched.

"I want your tongue inside me." 

David positively glowed. Nodding, he stood and kissed Patrick again, pushing his tongue roughly into his mouth before pulling back. "Is that what you wanted?" he asked, every syllable indicating he already knew the answer.

"No. I mean, wasn’t...no."

"Tell me," David breathed onto Patrick's lips.

"My hole." Patrick held David's eye, and was rewarded with a satisfied nod.

"Better." 

Patrick had loved making David proud long before they dated, long before he knew the intense pleasure that dripped through his bloodstream when he did something well sexually. Patrick was a pleaser, and he loved to be needed. He'd loved being needed when the store started up, the way he could see how much David appreciated him. He could love asking for things, if it meant he was doing what David needed. Something clicked into place, and Patrick lit up from the inside. 

"I want your tongue inside my hole, getting me stretched and wet and dripping. Please, David?"

Momentarily it seemed that David had been stunned into silence. Then his eyes narrowed slightly and he pushed Patrick roughly onto the bed. "Stomach, ass up."

Eagerly, Patrick turned over and stuck his hips up. This was familiar. Once David had learned that Patrick excelled at dirty talk, it became commonplace for them. Again Patrick reminded himself that this was nearly the same. Still, something in him shuddered as he thought of _ asking. _ He could say the exact same words as before, but everything was different now. Now he was asking because David told him to, and David would be proud.

His train of thought was cut short by the familiar jolt of David's tongue pushing inside him. "Yes, fuck, David, _ thank _ you!" Patrick groaned, his face half obscured by the pillow. David didn't let up, and didn't spend time caressing and teasing. Instead he speared his tongue inside over and over, pulling back occasionally to spit on the hole before pushing his tongue in again. With white knuckles Patrick held onto the bars at the head of the bed, writhing and humping at the empty air while his cock hung untouched below him. "David! David, please, I need! I need, _ fuck, _please!"

A sharp bite to his right asscheek made Patrick yelp. "You don't get anything unless you ask, remember? I can't read your mind, that's what this is about. Use that pretty voice and tell me what you need. I want to give it to you." David's voice lowered into something close to worshipful, and Patrick nearly missed the next part. "I want to give you everything."

Everything inside Patrick was roiling and sizzling. He gripped the bars harder. "I want to come, please, please touch my cock, David please can I come?" His voice was high and thin, but he managed to get the words out.

In seconds, David's lubed hand was on him. Patrick hadn't even noticed David getting the bottle, and thought for a moment that he should have asked for that too, but of course David was anticipating, taking care of him. The pressure was light, just enough to make him buck into it. Then David's tongue was at his hole again, lapping and licking and pushing in. As the pleasure wove through him, Patrick's body started undulating, grasping for every bit of sensation David offered him. 

"More, harder, David _ please _ give me more, I'm so close..." 

David hummed against his hole, his tongue reaching in as far as it could while his hand tightened on Patrick's cock. Everything felt hot and wet and tight, constricting until he couldn't breathe, and then suddenly the universe burst into thousands of stars. Patrick heard a far-away cry and only realized it was coming from his own mouth when he ran out of breath. 

When every square inch of his skin was vibrating with sensitivity with no sign of David pulling away, Patrick remembered what he was supposed to be practicing. He opened his mouth to speak and only made a faint hoarse croak. David’s tongue was still grazing his hole, lighter than before, but not stopping. “David,” he choked out. “David, please, it’s...god it’s too much…”

Before he’d even finished speaking, David had climbed up over him, easing him down onto his stomach on the bed. Patrick winced at the sticky feeling of his release on the sheets, but he forgot about it entirely as David pressed kisses to his shoulders, his neck, his spine, his ears. “So, so good, Patrick. You were so good, you told me exactly what you wanted, I’m so proud of you sweetheart, you are so good.” They stayed that way until Patrick felt like he was floating with the praise. It took a few moments after David got off of him for Patrick to realize the comforting weight was gone, and he whined immediately.

“Come back,” he said, voice still raspy. 

“Shh, I’m going to clean you up, just relax, you’ve done wonderfully.”

David had almost made it to the bathroom when Patrick pushed himself up. “David,” he said, making himself sound as firm as possible. He waited for David to turn around, eyebrows raised. “Tonight is about me asking for things, right?”

Slowly, David nodded. Patrick wanted to lick the fondness from his face. Making sure David’s eyes were still on him, Patrick lowered himself back to the bed. “Then don’t clean me up yet. We aren’t finished.”

**Author's Note:**

> a very massive thank you to the cheerleaders at the Rosebudd who provided constant validation throughout writing this.
> 
> find me on tumblr @thedidipickles and twitter @didipickles2


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